


Enlightenment

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-31
Updated: 2006-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: T’Pol reacts to her older self’s revelation





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Disclaimer: The characters from Enterprise are owned by Paramount. No infringement is intended, no profit made.  
Distribution: Anywhere, just let me know.  
Feedback: I would love to hear any and all comments about this story.  
Notes: This is my first T/Tâ€™P fanfic. Please feel free to e-mail me with comments and/or Constructive criticism. Enjoy!  


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I am undone.

The serene flicker of candles in my darkened quarters does nothing to soothe the nerves in my mind. They jitter like small bugs, irritating and unfamiliar. After a lifetime of the smooth tranquility of logic, these emotions are beyond unsettling. Vulcans are not supposed to experience nervousness, yet I do.

I close my eyes and the memory of powerful, undiluted emotion returns like a tidal wave. Suddenly, I am a study of opposites. A cacophony of sound bombards me, my own psyche screaming and whispering simultaneously. I feel everything and nothing. I feel love and hate, sorrow and elation, fear and courage, nervousness and confidence.

The emotions are exhilarating, my mind bursting in glorious color where there was once only black and white. In that moment, the safety of logic abandoned me, yet I did not have the capacity to notice its departure. I had been snared by the allure of emotions previously denied me, and when they left, I felt incomplete.

Like a thorn in my mind, my guilt prods at me. It was illogical for me to even begin a daily regimen of Trellium. Yet, in the wake of the emotions I experienced on the Vulcan ship, I was vulnerable. In a few days, I believed myself to be fully recovered. But in a dark, unacknowledged corner of my mind, desire lay in wait, looking for an opportunity to be exploited.

Desire. An emotion I had let loose once before when I met the Vâ€™tosh kaâ€™tur and melded with Tolaris. An emotion I was never fully able to eradicate, even though my ability to suppress every other emotion had returned. My dreams betrayed me, the desire returning when I was most vulnerable. Through meditation, I was able to control this lapse and I believed it to be an anomaly that would fade over time.

I could not have been more incorrect. This small splinter of emotion propped open the door of my mind and made me weak, powerless to stop the flood that overcame me.

When I faced my addiction and sought the help of Dr. Phlox, I felt some of my previous control return. Despite his warnings that my rigid control might never be fully restored, I had hope. I believed that through stern mental discipline, I would regain my ability to control my emotions as I had before.

My hope in recovery has been destroyed.

Her words echo in my mind.

_Youâ€™ll never fully recover._

Opening my eyes once again, I affix my gaze on the flame of a meditation candle. I stare sightlessly into the flame, its euchre depths only a backdrop for the scene replaying in my mind. A face appears before me, serene, calm and content despite her circumstances. It is the face of myself, one hundred years in the future.

_The emotions you have accessed will be with you the rest of your life. Youâ€™re going to have to learn to embrace them as I did._

Her face shows the tranquility of a woman who has managed to find a balance between emotion and logic. A balance that would be deemed an anathema to any on Vulcan who would claim to be a true follower of Surak. And yet, I know in the very depths of my being that she, in her own way, has found a path that even Surak would commend. Overcoming her struggle, she embraced the logic found in emotion.

However, the method by which she accepted her emotions troubles me.

_Thereâ€™s someone on your ship who can help. Trip can be an outlet for these feelings if youâ€™ll trust him._

I shift uncomfortably on the floor, my eyes darting away from the flame. My jaw tenses as I struggle to control the emotions that enter my mind at the mere sound of his name. It is illogical that one being, a demonstrative human, could be so unsettling to me.

_The emotions he stirred in me were powerful. Frightening._

Even now, in the dawn of my enlightenment, I push away the urge to replay our joining in my mind. The emotions contained in that memory are powerful, more so than almost any other. In that small space of time, I experienced what it was like to be cherished, and afterward, I was appalled by my wantonness. But the pleasure I experienced would be forever branded in my deepest self.

When I first faced the possibility of only a partial recovery, Dr. Phlox suggested I find a confidante. I immediately resisted the idea of approaching the commander. I felt that confiding my feelings for him would increase my vulnerability. I feared it would open wide the door to my emotions, destroying what little progress I had made thus far.

_I tried to push him away._

Yet my older self found peace and logic in her relationship with the commander. She found the control that eluded her elsewhere. It seemed that his emotion gave her balance she lacked. But even she fought against this path, struggled with her emotions before finding peace with him.

_Itâ€™s possible I never wouldâ€™ve married Trip. I canâ€™t imagine what my life wouldâ€™ve been like without him._

In this, we differ greatly. Where she, in hindsight, cannot imagine life without Charles Tucker, I, in foresight, cannot imagine life with him. His very presence threatens me. A thin wall of ice separates emotion from logic in my mind, and in his company, it melts. Logic dictates that I avoid him, and I have done so. But absence has only increased the intensity of my feelings.

Could the path of my older self be logical? At first glance, it would seem not. However, as the days pass and my control wears thin, I question my original suppositions. If being away from him intensifies my emotion, would it not be logical to seek out his presence? To confide in him?

This line of thinking has amplified my agitation, and I close my eyes, once again breathing deeply, my spine rigid, as I attempt to purge my mind of its ever present turmoil. His face appears before me, and against all logic, I am calmed. My breathing regulates, my mind easing its grip on turbulent thoughts. Only one thing remains: her final, telling words mingled with mine.

_Follow your heart._

_What if my heart doesnâ€™t know what it wants?_

_You will. In time, you will._

The electronic chime of my door invades the newly-acquired peace in my mind. I open my eyes slowly, affixing them on the candles before me. I breathe deeply, and answer.

â€œCome in.â€

The door slides open and I need not turn around to determine who has entered my quarters. His scent invades my nostrils, a heady combination of sandalwood, engine grease and human male. It is an aroma once abhorrent, now vital to my existence. My eyes widen as I consciously acknowledge my need for him for the first time.

Coming around to face me, he sits across from me just as he did before we met our futures. His face wears an expression of concern, one I have seen often and have studiously ignored. I regard him neutrally, not yet confident enough to let my emotions show on my face.

I may never have that confidence.

He grins slightly, then turns serious abruptly. â€œLook, I know you told me there wasnâ€™t anything wrong, but I donâ€™t believe you.â€

I open my mouth to explain, but he holds a hand up to stop me.

â€œNow, donâ€™t talk. Just listen for a minute. Iâ€™m not gonna interrogate you or anything. Iâ€™m just gonna sit with you. Meditate with you.â€

My silence conveys my surprise.

He smiles softly. â€œWhether you think so or not, you need me, Tâ€™Pol. Iâ€™m not askinâ€™ for a date or anything, but I am lettinâ€™ you know that Iâ€™m here for you, just like youâ€™ve been there for me. Weâ€™re friends, Tâ€™Pol. Itâ€™s the least I can do.â€

Straightening my already rigid shoulders, I nod in response. â€œVery well.â€ I pause, knowing I must explain but not knowing where to begin. â€œI appreciate your presence,â€ I finally admit softly.

He nods and smiles briefly again. Turning to stare at the candle, he shifts and sits beside me, our knees only centimeters apart. I place my hand on my knee near his, my palm open. He does the same, and the backs of our fingers touch.

I am overwhelmed by the relief that floods me at this briefest of contacts. For the first time in months, I glimpse a future that does not frighten me. I foresee a life that is balanced, fulfilled, content.

She was right.

_Follow your heart._

He is not an experiment in human sexuality, as I once claimed.

He is not a barrier to my recovery, as I once feared.

He is the catalyst to my healing, and as crucial to my life as water to a plant.

He is my friend.

End.


End file.
